


The One Where There's (Mandatory) Cuddling

by orphan_account



Category: letsplay, markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Markiplier - Freeform, markiplier imagines, markiplier preferences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 09:04:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7795681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The evening had gone extraordinarily well, considering everything that could’ve gone wrong. Your crazy uncle Tony didn’t get drunk off of his ass, your aunt Charla didn’t comment on the fact that your cousin Amy took two pieces of pie and suggest she take it easy, and your sister’s racist boyfriend didn’t say anything too racist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Where There's (Mandatory) Cuddling

The evening had gone extraordinarily well, considering everything that could’ve gone wrong. Your crazy uncle Tony didn’t get drunk off of his ass, your aunt Charla didn’t comment on the fact that your cousin Amy took two pieces of pie and suggest she _take it easy_ , and your sister’s racist boyfriend didn’t say anything _too_ racist.

After playing three rounds of dominoes with your siblings and their various romantic partners, after drinking four mugs of mulled wine, after promising your mom you would help her transfer her contacts from her old phone to her new phone in the morning, and after thanking your grandma for putting together yet another amazing holiday meal, you and Mark retired to bed.

“Babe,” Mark mutters in your ear. “Your elbow is right in my gut.”

“I can’t help it,” you grunt as you try to readjust. “This bed is so fucking small.”

Both of you had taken a well-deserved week off to visit both of your families for Thanksgiving, and because you were the youngest of your family, you automatically drew the short straw and were exiled to the cramped back room of your grandparents’ house. It was barely a room – more like a box, really. You always stayed in the room when you visited, and you didn’t mind it. It was perfect for you – the twin-sized bed and nightstand was all you needed. You’d never slept with anyone else in the room, because nobody in their right mind would actually _want_ to sleep in the back room.

But now, with your entire family staying over at your grandparents’ house for the holiday, there was nowhere else for you and Mark to sleep but the small, secluded bedroom in the very back of the house. And although you loved Mark very much, it was a less-than-ideal situation to be in.

“Can you move your arm? It’s hurting my head,” you say.

“Where do you want me to move it? There’s no place else to put it!”

“I don’t know. Can I move my right leg? Nope, can’t move my right leg.”

“Your feet are absolutely freezing.”

“Not the issue right now, Mark,” you grumble. “Your hair is in my face. How is _your_ hair in _my_ face?”

“Your hair is _always_ in my face, so I don’t want to hear it,” Mark blows your hair out of his face, making a show with his dramatic movements and sound effects. “Your huge ass is in my bubble.”

“My ass is _not_ huge!” you screech. “Plus, you’ve never complained about it being in your bubble before.” You shove your butt into his torso, pushing him off the bed.

“I’m about to fall on the floor,” he laughs as he maneuvers his way back onto the bed.

“I’m literally pushed up against the wall,” you whine, not able to scoot any further.

“Literally, huh? Not figuratively?” your boyfriend retorts, adjusting the covers over the two of you.

“Shut up,” you groan, lightly elbowing him in the stomach. He grunts and laughs, telling you that your revenge wasn’t very nice. “We’re not going to get _any_ sleep tonight, are we?”

“No, especially because you’re definitely _not_ touching my knee right now.”

“Oh!” you immediately move your left hand and snort. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Mark smirks into your neck, “I liked it.”

You slap his shoulder playfully, reminding him that you were in your mother’s childhood bed and that your entire family was spread out across the house.

“Well, at least give me a kiss,” he compromises, and you peck him on the lips a few times over your shoulder before you turn to face him instead of the wall. His lips taste of the mulled wine the two of you drank earlier, and you’re sure yours taste the same.

“Hi,” you smile.

“Hi, beautiful,” he kisses your nose and pulls you to his chest, although he doesn’t need to do much work. “I’m glad I’m here.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course. There’s nobody I’d rather be crammed into a small, creepy room in a small, creepy bed with.”

You laugh into his chest and relax your breathing, content to simply be this close to the man you love. It’s what you always pictured being able to do with him. The beginning of your relationship was not the easiest, if you’re honest. You didn’t know where you stood with him. He was so worried about you getting your feelings hurt from the part of his fanbase that took things a little too far, but he eventually decided that if you were willing to take the risk, he was, too. Now, almost a year and a half later, you’re relieved at the fact that he’s squished up against you, in this small, creepy bed.

“Your uncle Tony is a hoot,” Mark murmurs, his voice thickening with sleep.

“Mmm,” you respond. “Yeah.”

The two of you drift off into a sleep, aided by the alcohol you indulged in earlier. Neither of you moved from the placement you were in – not that you could if you _wanted_ to – and you stayed embraced in one another’s grasp.

You’ve always been a restless sleeper, and although Mark has gotten used to this over the course of your relationship, being a restless sleeper and being in a confined space did not bode well. Once the stupor of the alcohol had dissipated in your sleep, you turned to face the wall in a quick movement that caused both you _and_ your boyfriend to flip off of the bed.

“Jesus Christ!” Mark yelps as you land on top of him in a thud. The crash of your bodies on the floor causes the lamp on the small beside table to tip over, the lightbulb smashing in the process.

“Fuck,” you grumble, trying to untangle yourself from the blankets that were wrapped tightly around the two of you. “Oh my god,” you laugh, flopping around on top of Mark. “What have I done?!”

The two of you begin to laugh – slowly, at first – and then loudly, in hysterical laughter that you’re sure could wake the entire house. You hear frantic footsteps down the hallway, and you try to stop laughing long enough to tell Mark to be quiet, but you can’t hold it together.

“Honey!” your mother squawks as she bursts through the door. “Mark! Are you two okay?!”

The two of you, with tears running down your faces and a mess of blankets around your legs and torsos, look up at your mom and nod your heads, unable to say anything else.

Your mother nods, her eyes wide and worried, as she slowly closes the door at your shooing her away. You turn back to face your boyfriend, and although your laughter has dissipated to a steady giggling, eye contact with Mark makes the two of you lose it again.

“Yep,” he breathes in, trying to catch his breath. “Really glad I’m here.”


End file.
